


shadow cast upon a silver glass

by ambiguously



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Extra Treat, Life day, M/M, The Force Made Them Do It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-06 05:19:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12810468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguously/pseuds/ambiguously
Summary: A stranger picks Luke up at a bar.





	shadow cast upon a silver glass

**Author's Note:**

  * For [darlingargents](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingargents/gifts).



Later, Luke couldn't explain to anyone, including himself, what made him select Kolanda Station for his destination. His ship needed fuel, he needed rest, and he could have easily found both down on Latharra. Another jump would have taken him home to Tatooine, and maybe that was enough reason to stop here instead. Home was wherever the people he loved were, and none of those remained in the desert. With the last of the Empire defeated, his friends had scattered to live their own lives. Wedge was away training young pilots. Lando was off starting another legitimate business. Han and Leia were with their toddler on Coruscant, Chewbacca with them, and Luke was welcome to visit any time, really.

His mouth quirked in sad humor as he brought his ship in to dock. He was feeling sorry for himself, and he knew it. A Jedi was not supposed to feel sorry for himself, probably.

He gave instructions for the refuel and small repairs his ship needed to the maintenance tech on duty, then went aboard the station proper. Rebel soldiers had died here during the war, and he knew if he reached out with the powers he was still learning to use, he'd be able to sense the history of this place. Instead, he kept his mental shields up. His footsteps led him to the station's bar.

These places were much the same in every corner of the galaxy: a little dim, a little noisy, a little full of the kind of people who were not welcome in the politer sectors of society. The station's bar wasn't busy tonight, which surprised him. Holidays often brought lonely souls to fill the empty hours with alcohol.

The Pantoran barkeep nodded amicably to Luke as he came in, and wandered over when he took a seat at the bar. Luke greeted her. "Do you serve food here?" From the layout of the station, he assumed this doubled as the only restaurant, and he was not mistaken. He was handed a liquid-proof datapad with the menu. "Thanks."

"Life Day special," she said, pointing at the blinking item at the top. "Just like Mother used to make."

"That'll be fine, thank you."

"Drink?"

"Just water for now, please." She poured him a glass, and went off to give his order to the cook. Luke took a long drink. This was nothing like the flat taste of the recovered water they had back home, and bartender had nothing like the contented smile Aunt Beru wore when she cooked something nice for the holiday.

"The special is a rip-off," said the only other figure at the bar. "I don't whose mother used to make dinner this way, but I'm guessing she was from a species that eats their own young."

Luke almost choked on his laugh as he set his glass down. "That's awful."

"So's the food." The other guy looked human, about Luke's age, dark-haired and blue-eyed and good looking even with the scars on his face. He poked at his meal one more time then set it aside with a sigh. "The bad thing is, I remember going hungry as a kid, scavenging for food in the garbage, and I still can't make myself eat this."

"I've eaten nothing but rations bars for months. I'll give it a try."

"It's your funeral." His mouth moved into half a smile, but Luke read the edge of sorrow written there, reminding himself of some other funeral. Life Day could be a fun celebration but when you were alone, it brought back bad memories.

The barkeep returned with a plate piled high with steaming hot food. She held out her hand for his credits before she set it down.

"This looks great, thank you."

The man at the bar chuckled. The Pantoran scowled at him. "Enough from you, Karlow."

Luke examined the food, wishing he hadn't gotten the review first, then he took a careful bite of what was likely the meat. He swallowed a large mouthful of water to wash it down half-chewed while staring suspiciously at the probably-vegetables. "What do you call this dish?" he asked as politely as he could.

"Dinner," she said, and refilled his water glass before walking away.

"I told you."

Luke took a much smaller bite of the vegetables, found them nearly edible, and gulped the rest of that portion with as much dignity as he could. His dining companion snorted a laugh at him before finishing his drink. He placed a few credits as a tip on the bar.

"Come on."

Luke stared at him. "What?"

"I said, come on. I've got food back on my ship. I'll make us something better than this."

Luke glanced at his meal. Then he finished his water. "You don't even know my name. I don't know yours." Karlow, the barkeep had said. Luke stood up from his stool, and he followed Karlow out of the bar.

"I'm Luke," he said, a little awkwardly.

"Jaster Karlow. This week." The guy gave him a shrug. "I've changed my name four times in the last couple of years. I don't think this one is going to stick."

A pirate or a con man, like Han and Lando used to be. Luke could have guessed. There was a chance he'd just been invited for the honor of being robbed, which was going to be very surprising for everyone when Luke pulled out his lightsaber. Sense told him he ought to beg off now, go back to his own ship, and get some sleep.

Something else told him to keep walking.

They made their way to the dock. Karlow's ship was a Gauntlet fighter, red and black and menacing in the hangar. He didn't look Mandalorian, not his clothes, not his carriage or accent, but Luke wasn't asking. "Nice," he said, taking a look around. "I've never flown one of these."

"It handles pretty well. They don't make them like this any more."

Luke didn't think they'd made any like this since he'd been born. This was a Clone Wars era ship, but well-maintained and clearly lived-in. Karlow went to the tiny galley and pulled out a few items from his stasis storage. Within a few minutes, the ship smelled of something warm frying in a pan on the hot burner. "My dad was the cook in my family when I was a kid," he said, and Luke knew Karlow wasn't really talking to him, just talking out loud. "Mom could cook, but Dad loved to put different foods together and see what happened with the flavors. Lot of spices, lot of savory and sweet together. I never learned how to do it the way he did."

Luke sat in one of the crew seats. "How old were you when he died?"

"I didn't say he died." Luke waited. Karlow turned back to the stove. "The Empire took my parents away when I was seven. I never saw them again. They died in an Imperial prison when I was fifteen."

"I'm sorry."

"Thanks. When did you lose your parents?"

Luke was about to answer that he'd never said a word about that, either, but his new friend waited him out just the same. "Long story."

"You have someplace to be?"

He sighed. He didn't owe the guy the story, but it was a day for thinking about family. "My mother died giving birth to me. My aunt and uncle raised me, but they were killed by the Empire when I was nineteen. I found my father right before he died during the battle of Endor."

"He was with the Rebellion?" His whole manner changed, lighting up with a mixture of interest and something that sounded almost like fear. He knew people in the Rebellion, clearly, and now he was wondering if Luke was the son of a friend who'd been killed. Luke took another look at him, checking if he'd seen the face before, but whoever he'd been four names ago, Luke didn't know him, and he definitely didn't know him well enough to explain the full truth.

"He joined late," Luke said. "It was his first and last battle."

"Bad break," Karlow said, and he handed Luke a plate, his second dinner for tonight. Tantalizing smells teased him, mashed grain with generous bites of a spiced meat and tender shoots all fried together in small crispy cakes.

"This is wonderful," Luke said, making himself slow down after his first several bites.

"Thanks."

"You said your dad never taught you to cook."

"No, but I got adopted when I was older. Kind of." He made a face and ate one of his fried cakes. After he swallowed, he said, "We usually ate rations but we got in good supplies sometimes, and everybody took a turn cooking when we did. On the Core Worlds, they call it fusion cuisine, but actually, this is what happens when a Lasat and a Twi'lek argue over what 'well-done' means and no one pays attention that the droid's been messing around with the spice rack labels again until it's too late."

"It's delicious," said Luke, and he polished off the rest of the cakes on his plate. "You could start a restaurant and charge outrageous prices for mixing up your menu."

He smiled at the compliment but shook his head. "Not my thing."

"I mean it. You've got talent, and I've got a good friend who's always looking to invest in the next big thing."

"I don't like staying in one place too long." He took Luke's plate from him and dropped both plates into the ship's small cleaner. "It's not safe." Former Rebellion for sure, under another name in another life, and still seeing Imperials over his shoulder.

"The war's over."

"There's always another war." He might be Luke's age, but he sounded like he'd been fighting a lot longer.

Luke looked around. "So what do you do? Smuggle weapons?"

Karlow looked offended, but he wilted under Luke's stare. "Not when I can help it. Usually I do passenger transport between systems when I want to make some quick credits. _Legal_ passenger transport, before you ask. Anyway, what do you do?"

"Me? Oh, I do odd jobs for the Republic. My sister's a politician, and sometimes she needs my assistance on a mission. Otherwise, I like to think of myself as a student."

"There's no university on Latharra."

"I'm just passing through." He'd heard a rumor there were old Jedi outposts dotted along the Outer Rim, but he'd found nothing save long-desecrated ruins with no answers to his questions. "Once my ship is refueled, I'm off to Tatooine." He hadn't been sure until now, but thinking about home fixed the decision in his mind. He would visit the old homestead, and he would pay his respects to the graves there, and he would listen to the stones of Ben Kenobi's old home, and by then, Leia would call him and ask for his help on something, and he'd come to her aid. She and Ben and Han were his family, and he missed them today of all days.

Karlow said, "Been there. Very skippable as a destination, if you ask my opinion." He went back to the galley. He poured two glasses of something Luke didn't recognize.

"I didn't ask but I see your point." He took the glass from Karlow. "I don't really drink."

"Me either. The pilot who trained me told me if you intend to stay in the air, you need a clear head."

Luke glanced in his glass again, wondering if there was something else in there to make him sleepy or dead.

"It's not poisoned," Karlow said with an annoyed sigh. He raised his glass. "A toast. To the departed and the absent, may we all see each other again some day in the Force."

Luke clicked his glass, acknowledging the toast, then took a careful sip. "This is meiloorun nectar!" Sweeter than honey, not at all alcoholic. The juice jolted through him pleasantly. "I haven't tasted any in years." It had been another Life Day, ages ago, and another toast to the lost and the missing.

"I like to keep a bottle or two on hand for special occasions."

"This is a special occasion?"

Karlow shrugged. "Isn't that the point of holidays? That and feeling sad about the people you've lost?"

"It's supposed to be about coming together with the people you love and celebrating the bonds you share with them. Isn't that what the cards say?"

"Yet here we are. You've got a sister but you're not celebrating with her."

"She's got a family of her own."

"Yeah, sisters do that." He had that sad smile again.

"You said you had an adoptive family. They're still around?"

"Some of them, yes."

"Do they know you're still around?"

Karlow's eyes flickered to Luke's face with a sudden intensity. "Why wouldn't they?"

Luke sat back. He'd had a lot of gut feelings about this man since they'd started talking back in the bar. The biggest feeling was that he knew him, even if he'd never seen him before in his life, knew him like Luke had known Leia from the first moment he'd seen her. He didn't even know the guy's real name, but if they met again twenty years from now, Luke could pick him out of a room of hundreds. "You were with the Rebellion, but you left. Pretty suddenly, I'd guess. You've been on the run since, which makes me think you either faked your death or the mission you were on went bad and when you walked away, you let everyone think you'd been killed. That typically doesn't involve staying in close contact with your family."

"Maybe it doesn't," he said, and he took another sip of his sweet nectar. "Does it matter?"

"You picked up a stranger at a bar because you're alone and unhappy on Life Day."

"And you went home with a stranger from a bar on Life Day. How happy are you?"

"The stranger did fix me a great dinner. That always makes me happy," Luke said with an impish smile. Karlow's annoyance evaporated slowly.

"How happy?"

"We'll see. I mean, you're right," Luke said, standing up. "I should get back to my ship and call my sister."

Karlow was on his feet even faster, his hands on Luke's shoulders. "Or you could stay and call her tomorrow."

"I could." They watched each other for a long moment.

"Would you think it was a bad line if I told you when you walked into the bar, I had the sudden feeling I'd known you all my life?" He made another face. "I don't bring people back to my ship. You're different, and I don't know why. I just knew I didn't want you to leave. I don't want you to leave."

Luke said, "It does sound like a bad line."

"Told you."

"But I had the same feeling."

The kiss was sudden, and busy, and full of intriguing portent. Luke's mental shields offered little protection now, not with his eyes so close, and his mouth opening against Luke. He'd had his own defensive shields raised, Luke realized only as they dropped. The Force echoed between them like a song they'd both always known, singing in the breath they shared.

Karlow looked just as surprised as Luke felt when he pulled away.

Luke let his breath come back before he spoke. "I'll make you a deal."

Instantly, Karlow drew himself into a defensive posture, eyes worried. "What kind of deal?"

"I'll call my sister tomorrow, and I will stay here tonight, but I want two things from you. I want you to call your sister or your adopted mom or whoever tomorrow, too. It's Life Day. Tell them you're alive and you miss them, because you do."

Karlow folded his arms. "You don't get to make that decision."

"No, I don't. But I'm making the decision to stay or go right now, and that's up to you." It was unfair, and more. Luke had felt a strange pull to this man since he'd dropped out of hyperspace, and he wasn't sure if he could walk away right now. Blood thrummed in his veins, and the same sparkling energy he'd felt when he'd met Leia rushed through him now, only this time, he was almost positive he didn't also have a third triplet brother.

"They're going to be angry with me."

"I bet you a hundred credits they'll be overjoyed to hear from you."

"I'll take that bet." He smiled. "You said there was a second condition. What do you want?"

"Your name. Your real name. I'm not going to tell anyone. I just want to know who I'm going to bed with."

His breath jumped as Luke spoke, and his eyes were full of want, and sorrow, and a longing for someone to bond with, someone to share this holiday with even though Chewbacca insisted humans never got it right.

"Ezra."

"It's nice to meet you, Ezra," said Luke, and they stopped speaking for a long, long time.


End file.
